


The Odd Couple

by WeWillSpockYou



Category: Almost Human
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:37:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWillSpockYou/pseuds/WeWillSpockYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is annoyed that Dorian has to live in a glorified bee hive. Getting no help from Maldonado, he takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Two weeks before Christmas, John and Dorian are sitting in John’s favorite noodle joint. John, as usual is eating a bowl big enough for two lumberjacks. “You about ready to go home, Dorian?” John asks, around his final enormous mouthful. 

 

“Home?” Dorian asks with a bit of irony in his voice, “You mean that beehive I re-charge myself in?” John could feel the frustration running off his partner in waves. 

 

Fuck. John was not expecting that answer, nor the hint of sadness that washed over him as he remembered that long corridor filled with charging stations. It was more like a prison. “Yeah, man, sorry about that.” John mumbled, as he shifted himself into his coat. The ride to drop Dorian off was uncomfortably silent.

 

His apartment was cold and dark as John shuffled his way inside, throwing his unopened mail on the counter. He couldn’t help but replay Dorian’s mannerisms in his mind and found himself sighing. He knew his partner was capable of human emotion but was unused to seeing Dorian expressing sadness and frustration. “Fuck, man,” he mumbled out loud, absently rubbing the spot where his synthetic leg met muscle. Grabbing for the remote, John pushed all thoughts of his partner from his mind as he zoned out in front of an old Western.

 

“It’s too dammed quiet,” John said, out loud, hours later to his empty bedroom. Punching his pillow, he made up his mind to speak with Maldonado about getting Dorian his own place. It was the least he could do for the partner, dammit, for the friend who had saved his life. Satisfied with his decision, John rolled over and fell into a restless sleep. 

 

@@@@

 

“You want me to authorize housing for your DRN partner, John?” Maldonado said incredulously, “Where the hell am I supposed to find the budget for THAT?” Secretly, Sandra was thrilled John was finally asking this question. She saw a tiny glimpse of the man John had been before the take-down that had robbed him of his leg and almost his life. 

 

John could feel his temper rising as he shoved a hand through his hair, “Damn it, we can’t just leave him alone in that place to rot by himself alongside all of those other living Ken dolls. Christ, you haven’t been there, haven’t seen those corridors filled with god-dammed soulless machines”

 

Maldonado’s lips quirked in surprise, she knew Dorian and his myriad of emotions would be good for John. She had hoped the compassion that Dorian freely gave to others would have some effect on John’s morose moods but she had no idea Dorian would bring life back to hazel eyes which had seen far too much darkness. Speaking her next words with as much disinterest and she could feign, Maldonado said, “Not my problem John, and shut the door on your way out, I’m busy.”

 

John exploded out of his seat, his eyes flashing, as he leaned across Maldonado’s desk, “BUSY? I’m talking about my partner’s sub-par living conditions and all you can say is that you’re BUSY??” 

 

John was halfway out the door when Maldonado called out, “If it means so much to you John, sign him out into your personal care and take him home with you.” Sandra laughed to herself as John swung both arms in the air over his head. Being right had never felt so good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John lets Dorian in on the secret, giddiness ensues!

“Okay John, what’s with the smirk?” 

 

“What smirk is that, Dorian?”

 

“The one you have been wearing since you picked me up an hour late this morning. An hour late, by the way John, I was standing around waiting for you while you were doing who knows what.”

 

“If you want to know why I was late this morning, Dorian, just ask.”

 

“I’m asking, John, not that you’ll tell but I’m asking.”

 

“I went to see Captain Maldonado about getting you a place to live, okay?

 

“Fine, John if you’re going to yank my chain, just forget about it.”

 

“When I’m yanking your chain, you’ll know it!” John smiled, actually smiled at his partner. “I felt bad about you being stuck in the beehive, so I spoke to the captain about getting you a place of your own.”

 

Dorian studied John, blue lights flickering across his face. “You did that for me, John?” Dorian asked quietly. 

 

“Yeah, but it’s a no-go, some shit about no money in the budget, blah, blah, blah…” John lifted his hand from the steering wheel and gestured into the air making his hand look it was talking. 

 

Dorian’s faces plummeted and fuck but John hated to see the look of disappointment in his eyes. “BUT,” John said, pointing at Dorian, “There might be another way around this setback. Don’t get your hopes up because I think this is probably going to be the 10th circle of hell, but you could come home with me for a night and see how things go or whatever.”

 

“The idea has merit, John although I dislike the idea that my spending one night in a spare bedroom could possibly be worse for you than Virgil’s walk though traitors and treachery in Dante’s 9th circle.”

 

“Knock off the lecture on Italian literature; do you want to spend the night with me or the living Ken dolls?” 

 

Dorian laughed, and accessed all available materials on slumber parties. “Can we do each other’s hair, John?”

 

John sent Dorian a look that would freeze lava and Dorian broke out into a fit of the giggles. “Great, just fuckin great…” John mumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John brings Dorian home for the night.

John opened the door to the apartment and ushered Dorian inside. “This is the kitchen and living room,” John said throwing his hand up and motioning forward, “follow me and I’ll show you where you can stay.” 

 

Dorian moved through the apartment taking in every detail of John’s space. The apartment was lived in but cold and impersonal. An enormous view screen graced one wall and a beat up leather sofa sat across from it. There were no pictures or personal touches anywhere to be seen. The kitchen was state of the art and looked like it was used sparingly if at all. Dorian followed John into the hall. “This is my room,” John said pointing to the door on the right, “this is the bathroom in case you need to…..uhm whatever, and this is your room here on the left.” John didn't’t know why but he was feeling on edge. Dismissing that strange feeling he walked into the spare bedroom, turning on the light as he went. 

 

“Home sweet home,” Dorian whispered more to himself than to John. 

 

“Yeah, well, it’s all yours,” John said, “I’ll be right back,” He walked out of the room and into his own. John stripped out of his shirt and was in the process of taking down his cargo pants when he noticed he was becoming aroused. He slid his hand down his thickening cock and moaned out loud. “Fuck,” John hissed, remembering Dorian was in the next room and that his scans would notice signs of sexual activity. John also realized those same scans would take note of sexual arousal, “Well fuck and double fuck,” John said, this was one complication of having a DRN roommate he had not stopped to consider. He shucked the rest of the way out of his pants and shrugged into a black tank and black shorts. On his way out the door, he grabbed similar clothes for Dorian as well as the laundry basket. 

 

Dorian knew why John was on edge and the reason made him laugh to himself. John was attracted to him and Dorian wondered if John had figured it out for himself yet. Dorian had known since the “living Ken doll” incident a few weeks back when John had asked if Dorian also looked like molded plastic below the belt. Dorian laughed out loud, remembering the look on John’s face when he whipped himself out to show his partner that he indeed was not made to look like his MX cousins. John’s reaction was one of surprise, fascination and pure lust, unless Dorian missed his guess.

 

“Change into this,” John ordered, as he walked back into Dorian’s room, throwing a pair of grey shorts and a grey t-shirt at Dorian. “And give me the clothes you’re wearing.” 

 

“If you wanted to see me naked John, all you had to do was ask!” Dorian’s smile was brilliant.

 

“I just don’t wanna have to smell you in the same clothes for two days running.”

 

“John, I’m an android, I don’t sweat, but hey, it’s no big deal man, I can change.” Dorian took off his shirt and threw it at John; it hit him in the face and dropped into the laundry basket at his feet. He walked back toward where John was standing as he started to unbutton his pants. Dorian stopped in front of John and shoved his pants to his feet. 

 

John was rooted to the spot; all he could do was stare at Dorian’s perfect skin and toned physique, his fingers itching to reach out and touch his partner. “I’m losing my dammed mind,” he thought as he felt his cock stir once again.

 

Dorian raised his right hand and set it on John’s left shoulder for balance as he used his left hand to slide his leg out of his pants, his eyes on John’s the entire time. When his left leg was free, he ran his hand slowly down John’s bicep, a curious smile on his face. Dorian then put his left hand on John’s other shoulder and repeated the slow process of extricating his right leg from his pants. Sliding his hand down John’s arm again, Dorian finally reached down and picked his pants up off the floor. He dropped them casually into the basket. 

 

“Motherfucker,” John muttered as he grabbed the basket and stalked out of the room. He thought he could hear Dorian laughing behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck, guys. I'M not even sure how the hell THIS happened!

John was frowning over a package of Ramen noodles. He decided to forego a trip to the noodle joint in favor of getting Dorian home and settled in for the night. Home?? John thought, where the hell had that come from? Dorian was just here for the night, he wasn't home, was he?

 

“Are you having trouble with the Ramen there, Caveman?” Dorian asked peering around John. He had been scanning John all evening and knew John was hungry and tired, not to mention wound up.

 

“Damn it, I’m too tired to figure this shit out, let’s just get pizza, okay?”

 

“You’re forgetting I don’t eat John, but you’re starving, here, give it to me and I’ll make it for you.”

 

“Fuck Dorian, are you scanning me again?” John shoveled a hand through his hair and glared at Dorian.

 

“John, I am trying to be the best roommate possible by anticipating your needs. Come on, admit it, you are hungry, right?”

 

“Damn it Dorian, you know you’re right.” John sighed.

 

“So hand the Ramen over and no one gets hurt.” Dorian smiled at John when he gave the package over. “Now go put on a movie and I’ll bring this to you when it’s done.”  
“Damn bossy robot, tryin to tell me what to do,” John muttered as he walked to the couch and sank into the cushions.

 

Dorian ran through all available source information about Ramen and how to prepare it, setting water to boil and grabbing the few vegetables available in John’s fridge. Ten minutes later, Dorian set down the bowl of Ramen in front of John complete with a tumbler of Jameson. 

 

“Damn, Betty Crocker!” John grinned up at Dorian.

 

“Is there anything else I can get you, John? Dorian asked.

 

“Yeah,” John said, his mouth stuffed full of noodles, “Sit and watch this movie with me. Damn, Dorian, these noodles are better than that place on 7th.” 

 

“That’s because mine are made with a little dash of love!” Dorian laughed and batted his eyelashes at John.

 

“Sit down, shut up and watch the dammed movie,” John grumbled, “dash of love my ass.”

 

Dorian did as John asked, but couldn’t help observing the Kennex in his natural environment. His hair was a mess, his tank top was snug across his chest and John seemed relaxed for the first time since they had met, not to mention the fact that John was wolfing down noodles at an alarming rate.

 

“We have any more of this?” John asked, blindly holding the bowl out to Dorian, completely engrossed in the movie he was watching about the comic book god of thunder and his brother, the god of mischief.

 

“Sure we do, John,” Dorian said as he took the bowl from John’s hand and went back into the kitchen to get him more noodles.

 

@@@@

“Hey, you ready for the next movie?” John asked Dorian, absently rubbing his right leg where synthetic met muscle.

 

“Yeah, we can put the next movie on in a second, John, right after I take a look at that leg.”

 

“The leg is fine Dorian,” John snarled.

 

“My sensors show that you are in considerable pain, John, let me have a look.”

 

“Damn it Dorian, I told you to cut the shit with scanning me. You wanna help with the pain, grab the bottle of Jameson and let’s put on another movie.”

 

Dorian stood and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the half full bottle of Irish whiskey. He walked back to John and refilled his glass. “I’ll trade you John, the glass of whiskey for a peak at that leg.”

 

Shoveling his hand through his hair, John sighed, “Fine,” he grumbled, grabbing for the glass, “Do whatever turns you on Dorian.”

 

Blue lights danced across Dorian’s face as he knelt between John’s legs, “I don’t think you can handle what turns me on, John.” Dorian challenged as he pushed John’s shorts up past the beginning of the synthetic leg.

 

Never one to back down from anything, John cocked an eyebrow, “Oh yeah, Dorian, try me!”

 

Dorian’s chest felt heavy as he started at the light in John’s hazel eyes. He had never seen his partner this engaged in something that didn't involve police work. “Don’t say I didn't warn you John.” Dorian purred as he placed his hands on John’s knees and slowly pushed them apart. Never taking his eyes off John’s he began sliding his hands up John’s heavily muscled thighs, gently kneading the muscles as he went.

 

John sat frozen, staring into Dorian’s eyes as his hands felt like fire against his skin. He could feel his cock come to life with a vengeance, could hear the blood pumping hard in his ears, could not for the life of him imagine when the last time was that he felt anything good as his partner’s hands. That was until Dorian’s lips kissed his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “Fuck, Dorian,” John hissed grabbing the back of Dorian’s neck to pull him closer.

 

Sly smile on his face, Dorian reached up and grabbed John’s hips, roughly pulling him forward until his ass was hanging off the couch. 

 

John’s eyes grew wide with surprise and a little fear at the strength Dorian possessed. What the hell was he thinking accepting Dorian’s challenge? He didn't have time to answer his own question as Dorian scooted backward, as he reached for the waistband of John’s shorts and ripped them off. 

 

“You shouldn't have tempted me John,” Dorian hissed, his right hand moving to John’s cock, fingers circling his girth, lightly stroking, “You can’t handle this, John; you can’t handle me and what I am going to take from you.”

 

“Dorian,” John pleaded. He had been with men before, but it had been a long time for him. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone like this, since before his injury. He loved the rough touch of a man and the hurried, wet blowjobs he had found in the men’s room of his favorite bar. If he had his way, there would be nothing hurried about this.

 

His right hand continued to stroke John’s cock with harder, faster passes, as he used his left to force John’s right leg back. Bending his head forward he began to lick and roughly suck John’s balls. Dorian moaned, taking in the salty musk of his partner. Releasing John’s straining erection he shoved John’s legs further apart and began to rim John’s dark hole.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John moaned, knowing he couldn't take much more of this, needing to come in the worst way, trying to hold back, never wanting this moment to end, didn't want Dorian’s hands or tongue to stop their sweet torture. 

 

Raising his head away from John, Dorian stood and rucked up his shirt, shoving it roughly over his head then shucked out of his shorts, his impressive cock standing a full attention, a drop of pre-cum glittering on the tip. “Is this what you want John?” Dorian asked, slowly stroking himself. 

 

John licked his lips, not able to take his eyes off his partner’s enormous cock. Leave it to a man to design an android with proportions like this; Dorian was gonna to split him in two. “God yessss,” John whispered reaching out to stroke Dorian himself.

 

Dorian’s head tipped back, a moan escaping his lips as he enjoyed the feeling of John’s hand on his cock. His hand was hot, pulsing with life, rough and greedy for more. If Dorian wasn't careful there could be a quick and sloppy finish in his near future. He had waited far too long for this and he’d be dammed if he’d let it end too quickly. He brushed John’s hand away from his cock and knelt back down between his legs, leaning forward to kiss John’s lips.

 

John’s head began to spin, from the whiskey or Dorian’s kisses he wasn't sure, but this felt good, so dammed good. He ran his hands down Dorian’s back urging him closer, gasping loudly when Dorian’s tongue made contact with his own, shuddering visibly when the tip of Dorian’s dick nudged against him, wet and hot.

 

“If you want me to stop, John, now’s the time to say it.” Dorian cupped John’s cheek, his eyes flashing blue fire, control hanging by a shred. Even if John told him to stop he wasn't entirely sure he could.

 

“Fuck me Dorian,” John pleaded, lost in sensation and desire.

 

Kissing John with all of the pent up frustration months of riding with this impossible man had created, he began slowly penetrating John’s ass. The urge to slam himself inside John’s tight heat was overwhelming, but he managed somehow to hold that back, there would be time enough for that later.

 

“So fuckin huge, Dorian,” John grunted, “gonna tear me in two.”

 

“Shhhh,” Dorian whispered, “I’m self lubricating, you’ll be fine.” He whispered, bottoming out. Not able to hold himself back any longer, he began pounding himself into John, calibrating his trusts to hit John’s prostate on every third stroke.

 

John felt alive, free, his hands scrambling over Dorian’s shoulders, finding purchase, holding on. He could feel a string of pre-cum, wet and sticky on his stomach and knew Dorian was going to force him to come without even touching his cock. Each well timed thrust against his prostate was making John see stars and he knew he couldn't last much longer. “God, Dorian,” John shouted, gouts of red hot come erupting from his cock, hitting his chest and his neck, his vision starting to go black around the edges.

 

Feeling John clamp down around his cock was too much for Dorian as he began to climax as well. He pulled John closer, holding on, wanting to be as deep inside John’s body as he could be, wanting to be one, saying his name, “John, John, John,” over and over as he continued to spurt deep inside his body.

 

John had never felt so spent, so satisfied. He ran his hands up to rest on either side of Dorian’s face, his eyes soft, unfocused. “Don’t ever leave me, Dorian,” John barely whispered.

 

Dorian ran his fingers through John’s hair, kissing his lips lightly, “There’s no place like home, John.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You just want to wrap your arms around him and hug until you lose feeling in your arms.

Dorian could hear John limping around in his bedroom. He quickly finished cleaning himself off and stuffed himself back into John’s pair of borrowed shorts. Not bothering to knock, he walked into John’s bedroom.

 

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” John growled, “How about a little privacy, damn it?”

 

“You’re asking for privacy after what just happened in the living room John? I think that ship’s sailed.”

 

“I let you fuck me and now you’re throwing it back in my face, fuck yo—“

 

“Knock it off John, before you say something you can’t take back.”

 

John was sitting on the edge of his bed, thankful to finally have his weight off his synthetic leg. He looked up at Dorian, tears starting in his eyes, in so much pain, it was all he could do not to scream. John caught his head in his hands, breath ragged. He couldn't bear to see pity in Dorian’s eyes.

 

Dorian studied his friend; his lover, trying to figure out the best way to reach him. He knelt down in front of John and placed a hand on the knee of the synthetic leg, his other hand on John’s shoulder. “Let me help.” Dorian whispered.

 

All John could do was shake his head back and forth. No, he thought, go away, I don’t deserve kindness or help or you, I can’t let you see me like this; broken, incomplete.

 

Moving his hand from John’s shoulder to the leg, Dorian pushed forward and twisted it to the right, releasing the leg from its port, the color of human skin fading back to opaque. Dorian stood with the leg in his hands and walked out of the room, leaving John alone as he brought it to the charger and set it inside. 

 

John was right, this was worse than Dante’s 9th circle of hell, being open and vulnerable… weak, was the worst possible outcome from this little slumber party. What the fuck had gotten into him to think THIS was a good idea. “I’m so alone,” he whispered into the empty room.

 

“You’re not alone John,” Dorian said as he walked back into the bedroom carrying a bottle of water and painkillers. He twisted the cap off the bottle and sat down next to John on the edge of the bed, nudging John’s shoulder with the cold bottle. 

 

Dropping his hands from his face, he took the bottle and the pills from Dorian, shooting the pills into his mouth, chasing them with a long slug from the bottle. He chanced a look at Dorian and was relieved not to see pity etched into his beautiful face, what he saw instead was patience and maybe a little love. He tilted his head to rest on Dorian’s shoulder.  
Dorian slid a little closer to John and wrapped his arm around John’s back, anchoring them together.

 

“I’m a fucking disaster,” John gasped, tears beginning to fall.

 

“Maybe you should fuck me and let me be the judge of that.”

 

John snorted, a small laugh escaping him followed by another, before he knew it, he was laughing uncontrollably. “Are you fuckin kidding me man?” John laughed harder, falling back on the bed, holding his stomach. “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you’re making bad puns?”

 

“Just one of my many services, John. Come on, let’s tuck you in for the night.” Dorian started pulling the sheet aside and John maneuvered himself around so that he was lying in the middle of the bed. Dorian covered him up and bent down to kiss his forehead. “Goodnight John,” he said.

 

John snaked his arm out to grab Dorian’s wrist. “Stay,” he pleaded with his voice and with his eyes, “Just…stay.”

 

“Okay John.” He turned off the light and walked around the bed, grabbing a pillow off the floor. He set the pillow on the bed and lay down, shoulder to shoulder with John. He longed to hold John against him, but wasn't sure if the other man was a cuddler. John solved that problem by rolling over and wrapping himself around Dorian, sliding his left arm under Dorian’s back, wrapping his right around Dorian’s middle, his head coming to rest on Dorian’s chest. John wasn't just a cuddler, he was an octopus. 

 

Dorian wrapped his arms around his friend and held on, he could smell the pine scented soap John used in the shower, could feel a myriad of scars on John’s back and longed to trace each one, asking for the stories behind each mark. Dorian knew John had some stories to tell, none of them pretty, all of them essential to who John was or rather who John was allowing himself to become. John was filled with so much self-loathing, with even more self doubt and Dorian wasn't sure he could break through, didn't know if he was stronger than John’s perceptions of himself.

 

“What would you be if you couldn't be a cop, John?” Dorian asked, gently rubbing the back of John’s neck.

 

The question knocked John back, it was something he’d asked himself a million and one times since he woke up in the hospital to discover he’d lost almost two years of his life, his leg and his Anna. “Dead,” he barely whispered, clinging to Dorian more tightly. “The doctors all pushed painkillers on me. I never took any of them because of the nightmares, they were bad enough without the pills, but I filled the prescriptions and…”

 

“And what John?” Dorian asked gently, pressing his lips to John’s forehead, knowing the next words out of John’s mouth would shatter him.

 

“I used to dump each bottle out and count them, make sure the number of pills on the bottle matched the number of pills in the bottle. I spent hours just...counting.” John took a deep shuddering breath, “I knew how many to tak—“

 

Dorian threw his weight forward, rolling John onto his back, coming to lie on top of him, “Don’t,” Dorian whimpered, “Don’t say it, John.” He feathered John’s face with kisses to his eyelids, temples, nose and cheeks.

 

John was stunned by Dorian’s reaction, too stunned to move. He noticed his face was wet, knew the moisture wasn't his own, “Dorian, are you crying?” John asked kindly, regaining use of his arms and bringing his hands up to Dorian’s damp face.

 

Blue lights swirled through Dorian’s face, his eyes blue fire, “Where are they John,” Dorian rasped out, more harshly than he intended. “Where are the pills?”

 

John stroked Dorian’s cheeks, wiping away his tears, “It’s okay Dorian, I’m okay.”

 

“Damn it John, WHERE ARE THEY?” Dorian was close to losing it, was ready to tear the apartment apart to find the bottles.

 

“Gone Dorian, they’re gone. I flushed them.” He stroked Dorian’s face, leaned up to brush his lips against Dorian’s, “They’re gone.”

 

“When John, why?”

 

“Thanksgiving night, remember? You showed up here with an order of my favorite noodles and that ridiculous turkey hat you insisted on wearing.”

 

“It was festive and all the stores were closed, John, noodles were my only option” Dorian smiled, remembering the look on John’s face when he had showed up with dinner, enough for two.

 

“You ate with me that night, I remember wanting to ask how that was possible but I didn’t want to ruin the moment.” John sighed “It was my first real Thanksgiving in 35 years.”

 

“What does me eating noodles with you have to do with flushing the pills, John?”

 

John fought the tears he felt forming in the back of his eyes, resisted swiping at them as they fell, rolling down his temples and into his hair. His chest was tight and it was hard to breathe, not from Dorian lying on top of him, but choked with things he didn’t want to feel. “I didn’t need them anymore Dorian, I had you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's an eye opening morning after.

@@@@  
John woke with a start, strong arms holding him tight. The night before slowly coming back to him in pieces; he and Dorian kissing, fighting, sharing. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, he thought, he never meant to tell anyone about the pills and he’d gone and told Dorian everything. Fuck, just fuck. 

 

“Good morning, John.” Dorian said cautiously over John’s shoulder.

 

Dorian was still here, was still holding him, that had to mean something, didn't it? John turned in Dorian’s arms so that they were now face to face. “Good morning,” John said shyly, not able to meet Dorian’s eyes, afraid of what he would find there.

 

“How does your head feel this morning, John? I left some more Tylenol on your nightstand if you need it.” Dorian ran his hand through John’s messy morning hair, down to his chin, tilting his face up, forcing John to look him in the eye.

 

“’M okay, thanks, man,” John said, staring into Dorian’s eyes looking for a hint of what might be going through his mind.

 

Dorian could tell John was feeling uneasy this morning, whether it was the sex, the confession about the pills or something else entirely, he wasn't sure, so he just leaned forward and kissed John.

 

John felt as if he was a drowning man just tossed a life line. His arms tightened around Dorian as he kissed him back, letting all of the tension drain out of his body. “Feels so good,” John hummed into Dorian’s neck as he licked and nibbled his way to Dorian’s collarbone. 

 

Dorian rolled John onto his back and kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue into John’s mouth, his hands reaching to grasp both of John’s and pinning them over John’s head. John’s eyes went wide with surprise and darkened with desire and need as he moaned and tried to free his hands from the vice-grip Dorian had on him. “Mine, John,” Dorian whispered as he bent his head down to kiss John again, tongues swirling, dueling, finally mating with each other.

 

John could never say the words out loud, but he needed this, needed to be handled roughly, needed to have his pin-point control simply taken away from him. He could feel Dorian’s hands biting into his wrists, knew there would be marks that would later tattoo his skin. It was a relief not to have to think or plan or count, to just give in to the sensations Dorian was forcing from his body. 

 

It did not come as a surprise to Dorian to see relief and peace etched on John’s face. Last night John had looked uncertain, lost, scared, and Dorian hadn't known how to combat those warring emotions. All he could do was keep forcing John to stay in the moment and to feel. Dorian knew John was not submissive by nature and he was going to take advantage of every moment of submission John offered, until John was strong enough to again realize his worth. Dorian abruptly released John’s hands and sat back on his heels. “Roll over,” Dorian commanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

John whimpered, suddenly feeling exposed now that Dorian wasn't touching him. “I said roll over John,” Dorian said, with a bit of menace in his voice. 

 

He did as he was asked and Dorian roughly forced John up onto his left knee, ass in the air, face planted in the mattress. This was a lesson in duality for Dorian as well, on one hand he loved seeing John in this position, open and ready to be fucked and fucked hard, used and enjoyed, but the other part of him, the bleeding heart as John had once called it was aching for his lover and the nightmare he was living inside his own mind. Dorian took his hands off John’s hips; they were not touching at all now. He could hear John’s labored breathing. “So,” Dorian whispered, “You think you’re worthless, John? Huh? Broken? Incomplete? You think you deserve to be treated like this, like a fucking piece of meat? That all you deserve is to be fucked anonymously in the dark so you don’t have to feel anything beyond your own pleasure. ..Well?” Dorian waited, panting now himself, tears gathering in his brilliant blue eyes, his anger growing as John just lay perfectly still. Why wasn't this making him angry? Why wasn't he fighting back? “Fucking answer me John.” 

 

John couldn't believe Dorian was talking to him like this, couldn't believe Dorian had seen so completely into his mind; into his heart. John knew the DRNs had instincts of sorts, but still couldn't understand how Dorian saw him so completely. He didn't want to fight back; Dorian had hit the nail on the head. “Just fuck me Dorian, please.”

 

“Why John, why should I fuck you, what the fuck is in this for me?”

 

John felt his temper spark at that, “I would think fucking me is what’s fuckin in it for you.” John growled, lifting his arms to support his chest as he turned to look at Dorian.  
Dorian moved like lightning, reaching forward to grab John’s wrists, pulling his arms out from under him and forcing his face back into the mattress, pulling John’s wrists behind his back, holding firm. 

 

“So I get to be another faceless lover, John, is that it? What happens Monday when we go back to work? Do you request a new synthetic so we never cross paths again?”

 

“What the fuck do you want from me Dorian, a fuckin declaration of love, poems, fuckin roses, WHAT, goddamn it?” 

 

“This isn't some back alley fuck, John and you know it, you reached out to me, you offered me a place to stay for the night away from the beehive, to make my life better, tell me why you did that.”

 

John couldn't breathe, felt his heart pounding, felt like he was spinning out of control. “You don’t deserve to live with those fuckin robots, you deserve better.”

 

“And what about you John, do you deserve better?”

 

“I got what I deserved Dorian. My ex-girlfriend used me and tried to kill me, my partner is dead and his child fatherless because I was hurried and sloppy, I lost my leg,” His voice trembled.

 

Dorian released his grip on John’s hands, rubbing his wrists where his hold had been painful. He moved in closer to John, his cock brushing against his ass. Dorian moved himself into position and began to thrust himself slowly into John.

 

John moaned, from pleasure or relief he wasn't sure. He fisted his hands into the bed and held on as he felt Dorian’s balls brush against his own. Nothing happened, Dorian wasn't moving, his hands stilled on John’s hips. “Dorian?” John pleaded.

 

“Let me tell you what I see,” Dorian said as he pulled his cock back and almost completely out of John’s ass . “I see a man who has paid enough, given enough to more than make up for any past mistakes.” Dorian thrust himself roughly in to the hilt. He pulled back again slowly, “I see the pain and the longing in you for something better than this, John.” Again, he rammed himself forward and pulling back. “You’re so lost, let me find you.” Dorian said as he began fucking John harder.

 

There were no words for this gift Dorian offered him. All John could do was surrender to Dorian and trust him, trust that they would get through this together. John moaned as Dorian hit his sweet spot, his cock so hard it burned. He felt Dorian reach around and grab hold of his cock, jerking him off in time to his own thrusts. John knew he wouldn't last long like this, could feel his lower back tingle and his balls tighten.

 

Dorian could feel himself getting closer and knew John was about to come as well. “Love you John,” Dorian said, “Gonna show you how fucking much I love you.” Dorian felt John’s cock twitch as he began to come, could hear John’s hoarse cry of release.

 

“Love...too,” John panted as he felt Dorian’s cock spasm deep inside his body, fusing them together as one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will John give Dorian the keys to his castle?

John leaned back against the kitchen counter, slowly drinking a cup of coffee. For once, the constant whirl of his mind was quiet. He smiled softly at Dorian’s reaction to the Road Runner cartoon playing on the television. “Beep, Beep,” Dorian shouted and then started laughing again. This had been going on all afternoon. 

 

“John, I still don’t understand why the coyote keeps chasing this little bird, it doesn't look like he would make much of a meal, PLUS if he has all this money to send away for ACME products, why doesn't he just call for takeout?” 

 

“There aren't any noodle joints in the dessert, Dorian,” John smiled again as he walked over to the couch, sitting next to his partner. With Dorian so engrossed in the television, it gave John a chance to think about what had happened in the last 24 hours. His partner, dammit, his friend had become his lover, his confidant and he still wasn't sure what all of that meant for him, dammit for them. He slugged back more coffee and concentrated on Dorian’s child-like reactions to the Road Runner’s antics.

 

“Go on, John, ask the question.”

 

“What question is that Dorian?”

 

“The one you can’t decide if you should ask, John.”

 

“Fuck, Dorian.”

 

“Later John, question first.”

 

“What-, I mean, would-, dammit, Dorian, you know what I’m trying to say.”

 

“No John, I don’t”

 

“Move in with me, for a week, let’s see how things go.” 

 

“No, John.”

 

“WHAT??” John exploded off the couch, his heart was racing in his chest and at the same time it felt like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart. 

 

The look on John’s face was killing Dorian, heartbreak and rage distorted his handsome features, “No, John, I won’t disrupt my life for one week, move in here and then you decide, this little science experiment is over. What then, John? Do I move back in with the MXs? Do you dump me off with Valerie, what? Why are you setting us up to fail?”

 

“Us?” John sneered, sarcasm dripping from his lips like poison. 

 

“Yes John us, you and me, even if the sex was just a one-time thing, we are still partners and I thought we were friends. I won’t let you invite me here on a temporary basis, I won’t be a house guest John.”

 

“You’re in no fuckin position to dictate terms, Dorian, this is my apartment.”

 

“Yes John, this is your home, but this is my life.”

 

John stormed away from Dorian and went to the door grabbing his jacket and his keys.

 

“What are you so afraid of John?” Dorian called out as John slammed the door. “Damn,” Dorian whispered. He knew he had pushed too hard, but this was just too important. He could only hope John would understand why this meant so much to him.

 

@@@@

 

Why was Dorian pushing so hard about this? This was the thought that haunted John as he drove aimlessly through the city, one hour quickly becoming two. What wasn't he seeing? John thought back to the beehive and the MX units milling around, no, the place wasn't homey, but it wasn't hell either. Fuck, why couldn't he figure this out?

 

John pulled up to his favorite noodle joint, still no closer to answer, “Dammit, I’m a detective not a psychiatrist.” He mumbled, getting out of the car. He placed his order and looked around the restaurant. It was filled with couples enjoying their night out, happy couples who were laughing, flirting, touching. One couple in particular caught his attention. Two men sat sharing the same side of a booth, as if sitting across from each other was just too far away. Each wore matching platinum wedding bands and they took turns feeding each other sushi with chopsticks, exchanging kisses, laughing. John could tell by their behavior that they had been together for some time. 

 

“Knock it off Chris, before I shut your mouth permanently,” The darker haired man said to his blonde husband, his voice rising over the crowd, as he fed the other man a shrimp roll, a smile on his face.

 

“Fuck me,” John whispered, the answer coming to him. He stood, threw down enough money to cover his meal and walked over to men who were now laughing hysterically. “Excuse me,” he said, both men looking up at him curiously, “Guys, I can’t thank you enough, you saved me; saved everything. Let me pay for your dinner,” John said hurriedly, placing a stack credits on their table, “Thank you,” John said, tears starting in his eyes. The men stared at him open mouthed as John strode from the restaurant. 

 

John ran back to the car, jumping in and starting the engine, he hit the sirens and lights as he pulled out into the street. Dorian’s life and his future were not his own, one misstep on a case, one wrong response on a standardized test and he could be turned off, placed back in storage or worse, destroyed. He needed one thing he could count on to stay still while everything else whirled madly around him. John knew what Dorian needed: permanence.

 

@@@@

 

Dorian spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the apartment. He finished the load of laundry John had started the night before and stripped the bed, throwing the linens in to wash. He cleaned up the remains of the Ramen from the night before and the pancakes from this morning, sighing, remembering the way John’s eyes lit up when he discovered there were chocolate chips in the pancakes. He vacuumed and mopped and still no John. It was getting dark and Dorian fought back the urge to activate John’s locator chip, struggling desperately to give his friend the space and time he needed. Dorian wondered if he should call a cab to take him back to the beehive. He was about to make the call when he heard John’s key in the lock. 

 

“Dorian?” John called out, panicking because he could not see his partner in the living room or kitchen.

 

“Here John,” Dorian said from the darkened windows, which had given him shelter, peace. 

 

“Thank God,” John panted as he rushed to Dorian, crushing his lips against Dorian’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “so God dammed sorry.” 

 

Dorian stepped back and looked up at John, “Sorry for what John?” Had John figured it out? If Dorian were a superstitious android he would have crossed his fingers, knocked on wood and wished on a star.

 

John sighed, ran a shaking hand through his hair, “Sorry for not understanding that you need something permanent in your life. A place, a person, something you can call your own. “John reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small box. “This is for you,” John said offering him the box.

 

Dorian opened the box and pulled out a set of keys on a ring that had a picture of a very grumpy looking cat. “These are for me?”

 

“Yeah, Dorian,” John said, shuffling his feet, “for as long as you want them.”

 

“You want me to move in here, into YOUR home?”

 

“No Dorian, I want you to move into OUR home.” John finally chanced a look up at Dorian, who was smiling like a little boy on Christmas morning. “BUT,” he said, smiling back, “there are rules.”

 

“Rules, John?”

 

“Yeah, well, no bringing strange androids home, for one.”

 

“What about androids you know?”

 

“No androids, Dorian, I mean it.”

 

“What else?”

 

“Replace things you eat and clean up after yourself and if you’re gonna be late, dammit, call.”

 

“What about a kitten, can I get a kitten?” 

 

“No cats Dorian, I’m allergic.”

 

“Come on John,” Dorian said, stepping back into John’s space. He reached up and started taking of John’s jacket. “It will be fun,” Dorian whispered, leaning up to kiss John’s neck.

 

“No cats, dammit Dorian,” John jumped back as Dorian sank his teeth into John’s earlobe.

 

“It would make me very happy, John.” Dorian purred into John’s ear.

 

“Fine,” John sighed as Dorian’s hands slipped under John’s shirt, “One cat, one small cat.”

 

“I love you, John.”

 

“Yeah, love you too, Dorian.”


End file.
